


The Last Frontier, The End of the Trail

by shamebucket



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Alaska, Closure, El Camino: A Breaking Bad Movie, Food, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Post-Episode: s05e16 Felina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23228188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamebucket/pseuds/shamebucket
Summary: Only Jesse can decide what's best for him. He can be anything he wants, now.So, at the start of his new life, he decides to indulge in a few creature comforts.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35
Collections: All The Nice Things Flash Exchange 2020





	The Last Frontier, The End of the Trail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/gifts).



It's quiet in Alaska. Peaceful. The hour drive from the border to Haines in his newly acquired '88 Land Cruiser is completely uneventful, the only sound is that of the wind whipping against the windows and the chug of the engine. Snow-covered trees line the two-lane highway. Jesse - no, Ryan Driscoll, he reminds himself - starts to take in what this change in scenery really means. He sloughs off his old skin like a molting spider, which sounds more badass than it actually feels. Then again, molting is like the equivalent of creating entirely new bones, right? Maybe the metaphor isn't so stupid. The entire structure of his life is being rearranged.

To be honest, it still feels like his bones are broken in places. Not literally anymore, but his body hurts, probably from being curled up in the back of a truck for hours. Other things hurt, too. For the longest time, he thought things had to hurt until they would get better. For the longest time, though, he was somebody else's puppet. Not anymore. 

On his right, the trees open to reveal water, glassy and still and frosted over. Half-white mountains lay in the distance. Their rounded peaks reminds Jesse of the desert, of heat, but there isn't any to be found here. The cold is a soothing balm on Jesse's skin. It's hard to say what the best, most beautiful view in his life was, has been, but this is pretty nice. He could get used to it. He will get used to it. The thought makes him smile wistfully, makes him rest back against the seat and lean his arm into the flimsy armrest. 

After all, this is - was - will be his choice. 

The highway starts to branch in places. A church to his left, a golf course to his right. The branches increase in number, until suddenly the sea of trees disperses to reveal a relatively sparse town. It's definitely no Albuquerque, but nothing in Alaska is like Albuquerque, at least to Jesse's knowledge. 

He pulls into a gas station to fill up his tank and buy some smokes. The attendant asks for his ID, and he hands it over. Ryan Driscoll, once again. She doesn't bat an eye - looks rather bored, in fact - and hands him two packs of Wilmingtons after he hands two $20 bills (some for the cigs, the rest for the tank of gas). "Thanks," he says, and she smiles politely because it's her job. He gets it. 

There are a few different hotels he sees as he drives through town. He weighs his options as he pulls into a small supermarket. Looks like most of the restaurants are closed for the winter, so he'll have to make do and make something for himself. Well, that's fine too. As he enters, his eyes water at a warm, comforting smell, greasy and starchy. Pizza. In the back, there's a cafe and coffee bar, and the scent draws him there. A decently long line stands before him, and at the end is a case filled with various pastries. Seems like it's worth the wait. "Hey," he asks when it's finally his turn, "could you make a pepperoni pie for me?" 

"Yeah, sure thing!" The waitress writes it down. "It'll take a while, though. We usually need to take pizza orders ahead of time, but since it's gearing down and lunch is over, I'll see if I can get it out to you quicker. Is that okay?" 

Jesse considers. "Yeah, it's okay. I could really, _really_ use some pizza right now." This, too, is a decision. He could just leave, but he doesn't want to. In the meantime, he orders a coffee drink - some froofy shit that he usually wouldn't get. It tastes pretty good, even if he can't see himself ordering it again next time. The locals chat among themselves, laughing over shared coffee and sandwiches. It's the little things, you know? This is the sort of stuff that Jesse had almost forgotten about. It's nice to see it with his own two eyes. 

After some time, a large pizza box is placed on his table. He smiles, tips well, and makes sure to buy a coke in the market part of the store before going on his way. 

The inside of his car fills with the smell of fresh pizza. He drives through the town, past a few murals on the front of some storefronts, past some modest trailer parks, past people walking and laughing and smiling. Past people _living_ , past what will probably become his new life. He comes across a harbor and parks the car. Salt water laps at the few boats moored at the docks. Jesse figures this is as good a place as any to eat. The corner of the pizza box pressed into his hip and his coke in his spare hand, he walks to the beach.

A slightly chilly breeze passes over him as he sits down by the shore, its snow half-melted above the high tide mark. Well, here goes nothing. He takes a bite of his meal, closing his eyes. The salty, greasy taste covers his tongue, tangy and sweet and savory. The sauce is perfectly seasoned, even if the cheese is a little chewy, and the pepperoni is amazing. It's been a long time since he's had pizza, and it's been almost a day since his last meal, so he might be a little biased - but this tastes like the best pizza he's ever eaten. 

\- No. It _is_ the best pizza that he, Ryan Driscoll, has ever eaten. He'd know, after all. Maybe Alaska isn't known for its cheese, but this beats the shit he used to eat in Wisconsin as a kid. Seems contradictory, but that's the facts. 

Ryan laughs to himself, staring out at the inlet in front of him as the wind blows. It's a beautiful day, but it's not the best there ever will be. Ryan will make sure of that. The end of the trail is a whole new beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> The original Native Alaskan (Tlingit) name for Haines was Deishu, meaning "end of the trail".


End file.
